


Down To Below

by JessicaRae95



Series: Scarlett and Mouse [1]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (TV 1987)
Genre: F/M, Other Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaRae95/pseuds/JessicaRae95
Summary: One dark night, Vincent rescues a young woman from Above, creating chaos in the world Below. Life, death, and love struggle for control between the two worlds, something that isn't new to a world that does it's best to shelter and protect. Rewritten 9/2020, Special thanks to Angie from The Treasure Chambers for editing this work!Part 1 of Scarlett/Mouse series.
Series: Scarlett and Mouse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915804





	Down To Below

Down to Below

by Jessica Rae

Vincent walked slowly along the dark alley, keeping his black cloak wrapped close and his hood carefully covering his distinctive features. A broad-shouldered, tall figure, he walked with a certain stride in his step. He traveled as one ready to leap into hiding at the appearance of passers-by, or the headlights of a passing car. Wary, and almost catlike was his tread, and it was this caution that enabled him to walk upon the scene in the next alley without being noticed. His sixth sense felt the presence of someone in trouble, although he had not yet heard any sound.

Sensing a dire need to be cautious, he crouched down and ducked behind a nearby garbage can, to remain out of sight as he kept moving toward the quiet intersection of the street. Noiseless footsteps carried him around the corner of the building beside him, and he stood motionless in shock at the sight that he discovered. Stretched out full length on the dark asphalt was a middle-aged man, stripped to the waist, and his back was covered in angry whip marks and ugly bruises. Blood had pooled around his mouth and nose and Vincent could tell he was dead just by looking at him, even at a distance.

A soft growl escaped his lips, as he felt the lion-like anger rising inside his chest. Later, he couldn't account for what happened next, whether it was a feeling, or perhaps just a slight sound that was audible only to his extremely keen ears, but something made him step closer to the scene, and he hesitated, letting his keen eyes rove over the horrific sight. Then he saw her.

It was a girl that he had sensed the urgency from. She was also laying prone, the back of her shirt a mass of tatters and blood. His mind flashed back to the man that had been whipped to death that he had just seen. Not the girl too! With careful but quick strides, he moved to the girl's side. She was making a slight whimpering noise that Vincent had heard come from those that were deeply and painfully hurt, but were in too much agony to cry.

Now closer, he could feel the tragedy, intense fear, and pain radiating from her. He laid one tender hand on her arm, but she didn't stir. She was only half conscious and bleeding badly. Her face seemed to indicate she was perhaps 16 or 17 years old.

The lion-man knew that there was only one thing left for him to do. Vincent carefully picked her up and made his way back toward Below, stopping for a second to glance down at the dead man before leaving the scene. He had a terrible feeling that this was the poor child's father. Taking a deep breath, he left the awful scene behind, and focused his attentions on the living. His feet were steady and sure as he arrived at the storm drain that housed one of the entrances to Below, and he closed it carefully behind him, shutting it tight against the wicked world that he had seen.

"Father, quick!"

Vincent stumbled into the cozy bedroom chamber that his Father occupied, lit only by the many candles placed strategically around the room, their glow bouncing gently off the hand-hewn rock walls. The older man jumped up at his son's exclamation and dropped the book that he had been reading.

"Vincent!"

He rushed to the other man's side as his adopted son laid his burden carefully down on the blanket bed, his face already drawn with worry at the sight of the blood that covered the stranger his son was holding, as well as the long cloak that he wore.

"Are you hurt, my son?" he asked urgently, laying a rough hand on Vincent's strong shoulder. The lion-man removed his hood and let it fall to his shoulders as he shook his head.

"No, Father," he replied, giving the older man a kind glance. "But I am afraid that she most certainly is."

The older man sighed in relief and turned his concerned glance to the newcomer. He had never seen someone this young in such a terrible shape.

"Vincent, she does not look good. Where on earth did you find her? Above?" He was taking the girl's pulse.

Vincent stooped to the still girl's level and carefully brushed back the shoulder-length curly copper hair from her thin, blood-streaked face.

"Yes. Above. In an alley, Father. A man was lying there, too. Looked like he had been whipped to death. I could not do anything for him. She very nearly has been killed as well."

A small growl followed those words as he said them, and a small whimper slipped from the girl's pale lips in response. Half-consciously, she weakly put one arm up to her face as if to protect herself. Vincent took it in his hairy hands and whispered tenderly in his soft-spoken tone.

"You do not have to be afraid. You are safe with us now. No one is going to hurt you anymore."

Although she did not seem to be awake, the girl's face visibly relaxed at those words, and her lips parted as if she was going to speak. They opened and closed weakly a few times, but no words came out, and her breathing was shallow and labored.

Vincent kept her hand in one of his and laid his other massive hand on the top of her head, rubbing her forehead with his large thumb, and looked at his Father, who nodded and turned away to retrieve his medical bag. A calm understanding had passed between them, and Father had given permission for her to remain in their care.

Vincent smiled gently, as he knew his father would never refuse someone medical care, for he was still a doctor at heart. From it he took a syringe and a thin needle, as well as a small clear vial. He withdrew some of the contents into the needle and turned back to the prone girl.

Vincent had lowered his head down toward hers and was speaking gently.

"Now don't be afraid. We only want to help you. You must trust us, child. You are safe. My father is going to give you an injection now. Just some pain medicine, but it will help you sleep."

His heart melted when a sound akin to a kitten mewing came from the girl's lips, and a feeble movement of her hand showed she was scared. She shrank away, and feebly shook her head. Vincent could sense the terror coming from her like a tidal wave, and he felt sorry for her. Slowly, he began to stroke her hair and spoke gently.

"Take it easy, little one, easy. We mean you no harm. Those that wished to hurt you are long gone. You are safe here. Try not to be afraid."

He looked up and nodded at his Father. Father took her left arm in his hand in a firm grasp, all the while feeling her pulling away, but too weak to make any progress. Father looked at Vincent. Took a deep breath, and then gently injected the morphine. All the while, Vincent was still stroking her hair and talking.

"That's a good little girl. You will be all right. No one can hurt you here. Sleep well and try not to worry."

As soon as he sensed she was asleep, Vincent slowly turned and watched his Father hastily laying out different instruments. He was still stroking her hair, because he could sense that she was on the verge of having a nightmare. The drug would not allow her to awaken from it, however, so preventing it was the first thing in his mind, rather than her getting trapped in her own nightmare. His father was already slowly peeling back the tattered shirt, frowning at Vincent in concern.

Neither man was prepared for the sight of the thin back covered in deep lash marks, bruises, and gashes. Vincent carefully helped his father remove the tatters, and gasped. Cigarette burns covered her upper arms, and there were bruises too, as if she had been held by the arms and shaken. Vincent shook his head and looked up at his Father. His knees were weak with pity, and he could barely contain his anger. He could only say four words to his father.

"Where do we start?"

Father shook his head too. His lined face was taut with a level of concern that Vincent had not seen in a long time. The skirt that the girl wore was streaked with blood, the fact that it had at one time been white seemed to mock its appearance now.

Suddenly, Vincent spotted something and the anger growing in his blue eyes burned brightly. He stepped around the table and gently lifted the skirt to her knees.

"I think they were trying to kill her too, Father."

Angry lash marks covered nearly every inch of the white skin, and more burns were visible as well.

Vincent, almost overcome with pity for the girl, caressed her young face with his hard but gentle hands and whispered," At least they did not harm your beautiful face."

An hour later after much stitching, bandaging, and healing ointment, with Mary's help, the girl was settled into bed in Vincent's chamber. It was warm there and quiet, far away from the main rooms, and the soft candlelight would be comforting. Father laid a hand on her forehead and shook his head.

"Fever's dangerously high, Vincent. There's not a whole lot of hope. We will just have to take it one moment at a time and see what happens. She has been in this condition for some time already, and only time will tell if she still has enough strength to recover. If we had found her sooner, there may have been a better chance."

He paused and looked up. Vincent sat at the head of the bed, one of the girl's thin pale hands in his own two huge, rough ones. Never in his life had he seen Vincent so angry.

There was a tenderness that Father admired in Vincent. He could do anything for someone, and even though he was massive and super-humanly strong, he had never hurt an innocent person, not even a scratch had appeared upon the little children that lived Below. He was proud of Vincent and the righteous anger that he had toward those that would dare to hurt someone that was fragile and undeserving.

Smiling slightly, he turned to go and the last thing he heard before he left the room was Vincent saying in his soothing, gentle voice, "No one will hurt you here. Relax and try to rest. You are safe."

For a week, the rescued girl lay at the point of death with a raging fever. Vincent was there the whole time, applying cold, wet towels to her forehead and chest. The rest of the time he spent asleep where he sat, awakening at any slight sound from the fevered lips. He was worried. The young woman deliriously spoke incoherent sounds from time to time, and it hurt Vincent to see her so. He wished he could have gotten to her sooner. But there was nothing he could do about that now except keep hoping. Gently, he wiped the perspiration from her face with one hand, and with the other roughly brushing away a tear that threatened to run down his own haggard face. It wasn't fair, he thought to himself. She was so young, and in the prime of life. His head lowered upon his chest, as sleep once again overcame him.

It was some time later that Vincent awoke with a start. Father was nearby, bending over the still girl, listening through his stethoscope. His face was so serious that Vincent immediately snapped awake.

"Father?"

Father looked up at him, a rare smile crossing his face.

"Good news, Vincent my boy. The fever has lessened somewhat. I don't know how she has made it this far, but I think she will live." He straightened and put his instrument back in his bag. "Vitals sound fairly okay. She's definitely not out of the woods yet, but there's been considerable progress. She's strong for her age." He laid a hand on the massive watcher's shoulder. "But we have another problem, Vincent."

Vincent looked up at his Father with concerned eyes. "And what is that, Father?"

The older man heaved a sigh and turned back to the table where he began packing away his instruments.

"Well, now we have to tell the poor child about her father."

Vincent bowed his head and sighed as well. That was not going to be easy. He grasped the thin hand in his own and looked resignedly at his father.

"What we must do - we must."

He reached over and brushed back her hair for what felt like the thousandth time.

He started to say something else to his father, but at that moment, a small whimper came from the pale lips, and her eyes opened slightly. Beads of sweat were shimmering on her forehead, and her mouth opened and closed a few times, her fists clenching as well. She was looking directly at Father, and finally her lips formed one word, "Daddy."

Exhausted from the effort, she collapsed again into silence with one hand still clenching Vincent's. He didn't know whether to remove it, in case the rough hair and long nails scared her. But though she was gasping for breath, she seemed calm, so Father leaned over her a little to speak. Sensing him above her, her eyes opened and met his.

"Rest for now, little ... oh Vincent!"

He started back as if he had been struck, nearly frightening Vincent. "Her eyes, Vincent! Her eyes!"

Vincent leaned down and looked into the confused eyes that now looked his direction. The right one was blue, and the other was brown. And right now, there were tears gathering in them. Vincent felt the hurt rising from her heart.

"It's okay, child. Beautiful eyes such as yours are so rare that we are surprised to see them. Actually, I don't think we have ever seen them in person ever before. They are beautiful."

He was relieved when a small smile crept across her face, and barely a whisper came from her lips, but Vincent could tell she said, "Really?"

Father, trying to make her feel better because of his rather tumultuous actions, said, "Oh yes, child. They are lovely."

He tucked the blanket carefully around her and smiled his fatherly smile. "Now rest for now and get well."

Vincent reached over and fluffed the pillow a little and jumped when she reached feebly up and grabbed his hands again in hers. He stiffened, for a part of him still feared rejection from those that did not know him. A slight squeeze was all he felt from her thin fingers, then her hands dropped back to her sides, and her beautiful eyes closed in a weary sleep.

Father stepped away in a huff, making incoherent mumblings, for a moment before he finally turned to Vincent and said, "Vincent, I fear for her safety here." His words came out short and abrupt, as was his nature when disturbed.

Vincent stood gently so as not to waken the girl, then turned to his Father. "Why do you say that, Father?"

"Well, first there's Paracelsus. No one knows where he is. He is out there somewhere; we both know that. And he is grossly unpredictable. I hate to think of it, but I imagine he would love to get his hands on a weakling, and imaging what he would say about someone with those mysterious eyes? And then there's plain superstition. Someone will hurt her feelings by saying something unkind. What about Narcissa? You know she's a superstitious lady. I am sure there has to be some strange ideas surrounding something rare and different. You yourself know that to be true, Vincent."

Vincent cocked his head. "No one will bother her with me around. Have faith in our people, Father. And Narcissa wouldn't really hurt her. Deep down, you know that, Father. I do think Paracelsus is the only one we have to worry about. You worry too much about things that have not happened. But we will do what you think best. Do you think it would be a good idea for us to move her to one of the dungeon rooms, Father?"

Father frowned. "Possibly, Vincent. I really hate to. But I don't want her hurt or frightened by someone saying something insensitive. She is emotionally fragile and the last thing we need is her running off into the tunnels before she fully understands what we have here and where she is. Go prepare a room for her, Vincent, far enough away from the others where no one will find her. But make it cozy and warm. I don't want her to feel that she is in prison. And check on her often. I want to try to find out what happened to her before the news gets spread to the entire community."

Vincent paused as he was going out the door and looked back. "I understand your concerns, Father. I will take care of everything. She is my discovery, and she shall be my responsibility."

Slowly she opened her eyes. The room beyond was blurry and unfocused. As her eyes began to adjust to the dimness, the first thing she saw clearly were ivory candles of varying sizes flickering in every corner of the hewn rock room that she found herself in. It was quite cozy, with colorful tapestries covering the soft couch where she lay, and others hung above her, softening the jagged walls. The pleasant scent of melted wax and a touch of smoke filled the air like a natural essence. It was beautiful but confusing, unlike any place she had ever seen.

Intending to try to get a better look at this unearthly place, she tried to sit up, propping on her elbow, but sharp pain coursed through her back, and she gasped instinctively. Instantly, gentle hands were carefully forcing her back down. She looked up through the tears that filled her eyes, and she could barely discern a kind lion-like face above her that made her think of Androcles and his wild, but gentle companion.

A quiet voice spoke from the fearsome face, "Please don't be afraid. Please don't. We mean you no harm; we only want to keep you safe. Just rest for now. You have been severely injured and need to heal. Tell me your name."

"Nancy Miller." She replied, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, waiting for the injured muscles to relax into the blankets again. "Yours?"

"Vincent."

He moved to the side, keeping one rough paw on her small arm, and picked up a book from the table nearby. He was pleased when her eyes at once lit up. It was the wonderful classic, "Great Expectations". "I will read to you, Nancy, would you like that?"

"Yes." She replied softly, tired from trying to take in everything around her all at once, and a peaceful expression came over her face as he read on and on and on in his quiet, gentle voice. Although she was awake, Vincent could easily tell that she was still feverish, and exhausted, and not quite herself. She had not yet remembered that terrible night that had changed her life forever, but that very soon was going to change.

Nancy awoke again with the feeling that she was related to Rip van Winkle. It seemed to her an eternity ago that she had fallen asleep. She gazed around the room again with more alert eyes, noting this time it was different - much smaller, but just as cozy. Propping herself up on her elbows, she fought back dizziness to sit up and examine her surroundings more closely. The sharp pain in her legs and back when she moved suddenly brought her mind to a world of evil that she had forgotten. Scenes of angry men, blood, and darkness flashed through her vision in a whirlwind, and terrified, she looked around for a way out. The walls surrounding the room were of a shaggy limestone. Was she in prison?

"Dad?" She called out into the shadows above her. Only a faint echo bounced back to her ears. Now completely panicked, she leapt up from the blanket couch and darted back and forth along the wall, looking for an exit. "Dad! Where are you?" Tears were flooding down her face, and she glanced around in panic. "Where am I?"

She had to get out of there. Adrenalin mixed with her fear and propelled her up the side of the dungeon wall, only a few feet. Half crazed with fear, her footing wasn't the best, and she tumbled back into a heap at the foot of the wall. Unable to stop the flood of emotions, her fear, sorrow, and pain came crashing down over her and she sobbed in a small heap on the floor. Suddenly, there was a light thump to her left then hurried footsteps, and Vincent came rushing up to her, his voice kind but commanding.

"Nancy!"

His intentions were to gather her up in his arms, but she screamed and cowered into the rock wall behind her, fear causing her to shake uncontrollably.

"What do you want with me? Where's my Dad? Where am I? What are you going to do with me? Please let me go. Please!" She chattered on and on in a small voice, tears flowing down her face. She was genuinely scared.

Vincent shook his head a little.

"We mean you no harm, Nancy. You've got to believe that. I am sorry that I scared you."

She gulped and spoke again, "Then where is my dad? Is he here too?"

Vincent sighed and knelt beside her. He laid his large hands on her shoulders and felt the shaking inside her thin frame.

"When I found you that night, he was already dead." He spoke quietly, simply.

She looked up at him, shock and grief written all over her face. For a moment they gazed into each other's eyes. He could see the battle inside her as she fought with believing this horrible news. Grief gave way to tears, however, and he could feel her crumble inside, as she threw her thin arms around him and silently cried into his cloak.

The sobs were mixed with terrified mumblings of "No! No-o. No-o-o!" She clung to him as he carefully steered her toward the couch bed and sat down, drawing her next to him. She burrowed her face into his shoulder, and they sat there for a few minutes. Their visitor was in inner turmoil, and he could sense it.

"It's all my fault!" she sobbed brokenly. "It's was all my fault!"

At this strange confession, Vincent spoke softly. "Do you want to talk about what happened to you?"

Nancy raised her head slowly, a faraway look in her eyes, the uncontrollable shaking of her body making her look like a small child. But before she could answer Vincent, Father appeared, climbing down the rope ladder and he stepped into the circle of light. She whimpered a little and looked from Vincent to Father, as if asking if the newcomer was safe.

Vincent put one arm around her shoulders and spoke, "Nancy, this is my father. He will not hurt you; you have my word."

Father smiled at the frightened face and knelt down by the bed. "You are safe now. No one will hurt you." His voice was louder than Vincent's, but in a cheerful way.

Nancy lowered her head, and tremblingly whispered. "Do you guys think I am a freak, too?" She glanced sideways at Vincent, and then at Jacob, nearly holding her breath as she obviously waited for a reaction.

Vincent winced at those words and tightened his grip around her. "No, Nancy. You are not a freak. I think your eyes are beautiful. Whatever makes you think that?"

Father laid a hand on her knee and smiled up at her. "I agree, you are not a freak, child. No one is. You are special in your own way."

Tears gathered in her eyes again, and she bowed her head. "I wish everyone thought so."

Father lifted her tear-dampened chin with one finger. "Is that why they beat you?"

At that rather direct question, she seemed to sink into herself; her face took of an expressionless look of regret and she fell silent. Father, and Vincent stood, and Vincent picked her up and laid her back on the bed.

"Don't be afraid. You are here, safe, where no one will harm you. Try to rest for now. We will ask questions later."

She looked up at him, for a moment, there was a glimmer of light in her eyes, almost a thank you, then it went out, and she turned away from them, facing the wall.

Father whispered to Vincent, "Don't leave her until she is asleep."

Vincent nodded, and backed into the darker corner, a silent sentinel. As Father was about to leave, a face appeared at the top of the dungeon room. It was Mouse, the tunnel messenger and inventor, who had a way of getting in trouble all the time.

"Father, the pipe - lower tunnel - needs fixing. Shall I?" He spoke softly, trying not to disturb the scene below with his urgent request.

At the sound of his voice, even though it was whispered, the girl rolled over quickly, and gazed up at the young man. Vincent saw a new light in her face, and disbelief was in her eyes.

"Mouse?" she whispered, scrambling to a sitting position, and swinging her legs around as if to climb out of the bed. Vincent was at her side in an instant, holding her back.

Mouse's face, too, was incredulous. "Scarlett? Is that you?" he asked in a hushed exclamation. In an instant, he was down the ladder faster than Father could put his hand up and say, "Mouse, it might be best if you stay where you are."

Vincent and Father stood there in surprise as both teenagers stared at each other. Finally, Nancy (Scarlett?) held out her hand to Mouse, and he laughed and took it, sitting down beside her as he did so. The shock in their faces was palpable in the dim room, and both young people were looking at each other as if they might just disappear any second.

Mouse finally spoke. "Gee, Scarlett, I - didn't even - know - you were here. Been such - long time. Wow, haven't - seen you since ..."

Instantly, he clapped a hand over his mouth and looked from Vincent to Father and back to Nancy whose face had frozen in fear.

Father looked from one to the other and asked, "What did I miss here? Mouse, how do you two know each other? And why did you call her Scarlett? She said her name was Nancy."

Mouse looked at her and she bowed her head. That must have been a cue because he began to speak.

"Well, when I - was Above, there was - group of us. Me, Scarlett ..."

"Woah, Scarlett?" Father interrupted. "Please clarify that part, my boy. I am completely lost."

Nancy looked up at Father, laying a hand on Mouse's knee to silence him. Her words came out trembling and sorrowful.

"If you want the whole story, my mom didn't want me." Here she paused, and bowed her head again. A tear fell onto Vincent's hand that rested on her arm. "In the village my mom is from, in Eastern Europe, when a child is born with mixed eye colors, they believe that it's eyes have been exchanged with a witch's. She said I was cursed and a child of the devil, and divorced my dad, saying that it was his fault. She was into all that black magic stuff, and kept telling me that the voices told her that I was dangerous, and would bring her bad luck. It was pretty strange, actually. Anyhow, she kept me locked away in our attic, for days at a time, so that no one would see me. It was just a stupid superstition, but she believed it so strongly that it affected my life growing up, as well as hers. One day she left the house and I crawled out of the little attic window and ran away. I joined a group of kids on the street. It was better than being locked away in the attic so no one would see me!" She added this last part defensively.

"At least I had a family. We all had names that other people wouldn't recognize, and mine was Scarlett. Mouse – he never knew my real name."

Sensing they were opening deep wounds, and that she would probably talk to Mouse more than either one of them, since Father was so shocked by the situation he was simply staring at the children as if they had three heads, Vincent stepped in and laid a hand on his Father's shoulder and the other on Mouse's shoulder.

"The past doesn't matter anymore. You are both stronger than what you have been through, and I am glad that you two found each other. Mouse, I trust you to take care of her. Nancy, or Scarlett, whatever you choose to be called, please know you are safe here, and we will protect you. We will leave you two alone for a bit to catch up. If either of you need anything, send a message on the pipes."

Nancy nodded in acceptance of his offer, and Mouse grinned widely. "Okay good, okay fine."

The minute Father and Vincent left, Mouse threw his arms around Nancy.

"So sorry, Nancy. Really I am. I just say - whatever comes. I didn't mean to make them mad."

Nancy frowned. "I don't think you did, Mouse. It's all new and confusing to me. I am still not quite sure what is happening. I'm only here because everyone thinks I am strange and need to be sheltered like a crystal chandelier."

Mouse looked into her eyes, smiling bashfully. "Not Mouse."

They gazed at each other for a moment, feeling each other's pain. Mouse jumped up and paced the floor when a slight blush came over Nancy's face.

"Mouse, why have they put me in this dungeon?" She looked after him, worry on her face.

Mouse sighed as he turned to face her. "To keep - safe. There are those out there - that would hurt you."

Nancy bowed her head. "I know. I don't know if I will ever be safe."

Mouse stood akimbo for a moment and then came to sit beside her again. "Nancy, what did - happen - to you?"

She looked up at him. "Did those tunnel people put you up to asking me?" A bitter tone came with those words, and Mouse could tell that she was deflecting from her own pain and mistrust.

"No," he answered softly, shaking his curly hair. "Mouse wants to - know because - Mouse cares about you. Very much."

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence, and then she sighed, as he took her hand.

"After you and I saw each other last, I ended up at Mom's again. She was really strange, even more than before – which I didn't know was possible. Kept me locked up, as usual, but never really said anything to me or acted like I was there. It was as if I was invisible. She did have the window closed up so I couldn't get out again. Anyhow, one day I received a letter in the mail. I remember her bringing it up to the door and sliding it under it. The letter was supposed to be from my Dad, who – like I said - had moved out a long time before, and it asked my Mom and me to meet a messenger at the corner of Gregg and Tarmac. Well, I should have known better, especially since I was never let out of the house. It wasn't right that suddenly she would want to talk to me and dad together. Not sure what I was thinking, but I went anyway. When we got there, some guys jumped me, and out of nowhere Dad appeared and tried to pull them off. They just wanted me. Mom just faded into the night and left us there in the middle of the chaos. These guys were yelling that I was a witch and that I deserved to die. I don't want to go through all of what happened, but anyway, Dad tried to stop them, but they ... they ..."

She burst into tears, and Mouse put his arms around her. He wished he could make her feel better, but comfort was all he knew to give. Vincent, sensing the terrible pain in her heart and body through a subtle connection to the new, strange girl, appeared at the opening above them. He smiled slightly when he saw Nancy and Mouse in each other's arms. Mouse stood and gently pushed her back down on the bed. He pulled the blanket around her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Scarlett does not worry now, rest, as Vincent would say. Mouse protect." Startled, he laid his hand on her head. "Stay there, Scarlett. Forehead very hot. Damp too. Serious, worse than serious. Must get Father."

She grabbed for his hand. "No, Mouse, please, I will be fine." But as soon as she said that, a small shriek escaped her lips, and she doubled over in obvious pain. "Oh, Mouse!" She gasped, "It really, really hurt!"

Mouse grabbed his hair with both hands, darted back and forth for a moment, talking to himself in a panic. "Must get Father, it's okay. Be right back. Must get Father. Must get Father."

Another exclamation of pain escaped her lips, and she shook her head, a strange spectacle with tears streaming down her face, grabbing her stomach, and reaching for Mouse.

"No, Mouse, don't bring them back down here!" Her words came out in an agonized shriek that sent chills down Mouse's spine.

At that moment, Vincent was already on his way and reached the bottom of the ladder. He grabbed Mouse by the shoulder. As soon as he turned around, Vincent motioned him to go for Father. Meanwhile, he rushed to Nancy's side.

"Nancy, please stop moving around!" He looked down at her and his heart skipped a beat. Her face was chalky, and pale. Her hair was soaked already with perspiration, and her eyes were wide with pain.

Vincent knew the signs of intense, blinding agony when he saw them. But he knew he had to calm her down. Father couldn't help her either if she was thrashing like this. Vincent tried to take her into his arms, but she was still resisting too much, although her attempts were feeble. At that moment, Father also came hurrying down the ladder, followed by Mary.

Mouse did not follow, so Vincent figured that Father had sent the hysterical boy on an errand or something, full well knowing it probably wouldn't get done, Mouse was so absentminded, but it gave him something to distract him from the chamber.

Father laid one hand on her head and one on her stomach. "Where does it hurt, child, where?" Mary frowned and motioned to Father. After a whispered conversation, she motioned for Vincent to leave. The last thing he saw was Mary taking Nancy in her arms, and Father digging through his bag.

Vincent turned a corner in the passageway just as someone ran into him. He jumped back, startled, and smiled. Mouse stood in front of him, and then turned away quickly. But in that glimpse, Vincent had seen the young face was streaked with tears and he reached out and grabbed Mouse's shoulder before he could move.

He froze when he felt the touch, and Vincent spoke softly, "I know you are worried, Mouse."

Slowly Mouse turned to face his friend. For a moment, he could not speak, tears running unashamedly down his gentle face.

"If she dies - Mouse will kill those men." The normally very mild and gentle young man choked out this threat and threw himself into Vincent's arms, shaking with emotion.

Carefully, Vincent sank to the ground, pulling Mouse with him. He sat down beside Vincent, and stared at the ground, sniffing, and tossing little stones over the edge of the cliff that the path ran on in that section. Vincent looked over at the young face, now streaked with tears and stiff with suppressed anger.

"Tell me about you and Nancy." Vincent said, gently, hoping to distract him.

Mouse smiled a little, "Okay, good. Okay, fine." and tossed a stone over the edge. "Mouse and Scarlett met in - night in downtown Brooklyn. I was – new - chimney sweep, and she was - a kid looking for - friend. I kind of - fell - for her- ". Here he looked a bit embarrassed. "Actually - fell into her. She was running from – home. We kind of liked - each other."

Vincent smiled at the bashful young man but said nothing.

"We kind of - hung around – a lot actually - inventing things from stuff - we found - in garbage cans. Real fun. A few days - we met - other kids. Real street kids. They taught us wrestling, and - travel quietly. We never stole - or destroyed." He spoke defiantly when he saw the question on Vincent's face. "We - good friends. We had a gang together. We called ourselves - The Brooklyn Four. Me, Scarlett, Randall, and Beany. We were - best friends, Vincent."

A sad sound had come into his voice at this part, and Vincent cocked his head.

"Then what happened?" he spoke gently.

Mouse fiddled with a stone before answering. "Well, one night- all together in - building in Brooklyn downtown. Was - rigged to detonate – umm - demolition. We didn't know - and we were testing - a gadget - we had made." He grinned a bit and added," I forgot what - it did."

Grief enveloped him again, and he continued in a quieter voice. Vincent had a bad feeling he knew where this story was going.

"We hooked it up to - car battery, and - somehow - it detonated the dynamite. It was crazy. Parts of the building – falling - on us, around us, Scarlett - screaming. Blood everywhere, Randall was - in pieces. Beany - crushed - by foundation." At this point, Vincent could tell he was reliving the moment, for he changed his stammering chopped English to present tense that shook with emotion.

"Try to find Scarlett, but she - pinned under rocks. Try hard – can't find her. So much smoke and dust. Hear sirens in the distance, and Scarlett telling me - to run. I do. Vincent? Went back there later - no sign of anyone. Never knew what happened - to her. "

He blushed a little when Vincent added, "But you never stopped thinking of her?"

Mouse looked sheepishly up at him. "No - Vincent."

Vincent laid a hand on his shoulder in understanding. He watched Mouse chew his lip for a moment, then compulsively, he threw his arms around Vincent again, and that is where Father found them several hours later.

He had such a serious look on his face, that Vincent felt his heart drop. He didn't move however, because Mouse had fallen asleep against his shoulder. Father knelt down beside him.

Vincent spoke softly, "What happened, Father?"

The older man picked up a stone and rubbed it between his fingers. "Well, Vincent my boy, we knew she had been beaten, but we never considered assault."

Vincent stared at his Father, his eyes a mixture of anger and pity. He could feel the grief emanating from the girl, even though he was nowhere near her.

"You're kidding, Father!" was all he could say.

Father nodded. "Yes Vincent. There was internal damage we overlooked consequently, and her running around down there didn't help. She could very well have just died. Someone's got to be there with her at all times until she heals. Remember, it's from the inside out now. Mary's in there with her now."

Vincent shook his head in disbelief. People could be really cruel. "What do you suggest, Father."

Father sighed. "Well, I think we need to let some of the women stay with her. She needs to have someone to talk to. She might talk more freely to one of them. I am going to talk to Jamie."

Mouse slowly made his way back to the lower bedroom, where Mary was tending to Nancy. He climbed down the ladder and smiled when Mary looked up from her knitting. She looked tired.

"Mouse watch for a little." He motioned for her to go back up. "Go rest. Mouse will watch." He smiled again, and nodded shyly, when Mary smiled back and held out her hand."

"Thanks, Mouse." She laid aside her knitting, walked over and pulled the blanket tighter around the sleeping girl. "If she moves or awakens, bang on the pipes to call Father. Pascal will be on guard."

Mouse nodded and sat down on the chair. Fifteen minutes later, Nancy slowly sat up. She looked very pale and tired. Mouse leaped to his feet. But before he could move to bang on the pipe, she spoke.

"Mouse, Mouse wait. Is there somewhere I can shower and change?"

Mouse hesitated. "Father think it best - not move."

Nancy snorted. "Maybe a man can do that, but not a girl." She stood on shaky feet and grasped her bag that Vincent had set aside after rescuing it in the park. "Please, Mouse. I want to show them I am not broken. I know they are worried about me. I want to show them that there is nothing to worry about. I will be fine. Please, Mouse, I promise."

Mouse weighed Father's wrath against Scarlett's strong will and shook his head. "I can see - both sides, Scarlett, but okay. You win. You always - knew your – own mind."

Nancy grimaced. "I am a girl, you know."

Mouse never figured out how they made it up that rope ladder, but he was relieved when they made it to the top. It was a slow trip, but they eventually made it to the Lower Level, where there was a beautiful cavern with a majestic below ground waterfall. Father and Vincent had arranged a sort of shower room from all the water by creating a series of channels and chutes, channeling the water to create several small cave rooms and mini waterfalls. The women often frequented them, and everyone understood that women only were allowed there. There was a small library of books for those that accompanied the woman, as no one was allowed here alone.

Paracelsus was still on the loose. No one knew where he was. Last anyone had heard; he was down beyond the very lowest regions that existed in the tunnels. Hopefully, he was no longer a bother. But no one dared take any chances after he had wormed his way into their Winterfest and nearly succeeded in killing Father and many tunnel folks.

Mouse stopped at the library doorway. "Mouse stay here. Go no further. Go on, but - be careful. Father not going to be happy."

Nancy smiled, and replied, "Let him talk to me. You are only my guide. And a rather handsome one."

Mouse and Nancy both blushed, and Mouse made motions as if to wave her away. "Go on now, get busy."

He watched as she slowly made her way down the short flight of stone steps to the room beyond, and slowly ducked beneath the woven curtain that blocked the view of all other people coming into the caverns. She gazed around her in awe. The room beyond seemed to have its own light, somehow flowing through the water, reflecting from the many candles. The water had been channeled through sluices that flowed into the different caverns, each a "shower" of its own.

She ducked under the curtain at the door of one such cavern, and gasped. The air was nicely steamy and warm. A small rock shelf jutted from one wall, there was a bench there too, and a beautiful mahogany robe. Nancy carefully spread out a few things from her bag, and brushed back a tear from her eyes, One such thing was a small bottle of Victorian perfume that her dad had purchased for her 16th birthday. She shivered, even though it was warm, as she remembered the last time she had seen her father. Blood pouring from a gash on his face, he had yelled for her to run, and she had turned to do so, and a heavy hand had grabbed her arm and had slammed her to the ground. She shivered again, not knowing that the intense agony in her heart had alerted Vincent that she was awake and in pain, and he was quickly making his way to her bedroom, where she no longer was.

Careful of the cuts, burns, and bruises that her thin body bore, she slipped out of the white gown that these strange underground people had dressed her in, laid it aside and carefully undressed. Pain filled her eyes with tears, and she tried to push it aside. With slow steps, she slipped under the gentle waterfall, and stood there, mouth open, eyes closed, with the water cascading down her figure, washing away the tiredness and grime of her fight in the street. Finally, she reached for the small bottle of shampoo provided on a little shelf in the back wall of the "shower" and washed her hair. It clung to her bruised shoulders in shiny copper tangles. Tears gathered again as she remembered her father's touch as he combed out the tangles that her fine hair inevitably got into every time she washed it. He had always been there for her. She stood there for a moment letting the tears mix with the water flowing from above her.

Finally, knowing everyone would be worried, she took the red towel down off its hook by the door and dried her now shivering frame. Carefully, ignoring the bruises on her thighs and midsection, she stood before the mirror and held up a blue dress she had brought from home. It was a lovely turquoise, deep and flowing. A sash of a darker blue completed the look. Made of flowing silky material, it enhanced the copper in her hair, and unfortunately, the swollen paleness of her face. She began to sob again.

"I'll never be a whole woman again," she whispered. "Never!"

She tossed the dress down, threw on the burgundy robe, and stepped from the room. Instead of telling Mouse she was done, she tiptoed past the library, where he was occupied with trying to reach a book on the top shelf. Down the next corridor she walked, feeling as if her past was trying to catch her, trying to shake that feeling of hopelessness. The men that had stolen her innocence from her seemed to fill every shadow around her. Their faces leered at her from the shadows. Some rooms she walked through were shadowy, some glistened with crystals found naturally in the walls. She came to one that was dark, suddenly realizing that she did not know where she was going. She whimpered and stopped walking. Fear paralyzed her brain. She turned in a complete circle, looking for the shadowy figures that took on the form of her tormenters.

"Go away!" She whispered. "Go away!" Leave me alone." She took a few more steps backwards. Suddenly, someone grabbed her shoulders. She froze instantly, and with an agonized whimper, her eyes slowly closed, and she fainted.

Vincent looked down at the limp figure in his arms. He could sense the fear in her heart, even though she was no longer conscious. He looked up at his Father who was walking around muttering to himself.

"Father, try to understand. She was only trying to feel better. Like a woman again."

Father stopped pacing and turned to face Vincent. "What if she had started bleeding again? She could have died out here. No one would have found her in time."

Vincent looked down at the pale face with the closed swollen eyes. He sighed. He totally understood. But there was also something else he understood.

"She has to stay here in the Upper Tunnels with us. She is too scared to stay down there. I think if we let her stay up here and explained things to her we could get her to listen. She is a practical child. And we could put her in this room next to Jamie. Then she could call for her if she needs help.

"Father, it is too lonely down there for her. Imagine, a girl that has been told that she is a demon, deserted by her mother, violated by hoodlums on the street, had her loving father killed before her, beaten, and left to die. Wouldn't you be scared if you all of a sudden found yourself in a strange world of tunnels and caverns and the people there are trying to keep you in a dungeon?"

Father walked over and stood in front of his son, looking down at Nancy for a few moments, before he gently reached over and touched her damp tear-streaked cheek with the back of his finger. He ran his finger up to her hair and brushed back a few damp tangles.

"You know, Vincent," he said in a broken voice that Vincent rarely heard, "for some reason, I feel for her like I felt for you when you were first brought to me. If anyone tries to hurt her ... "

Vincent laid a hand on his Father's arm. "Don't worry Father. I think all will be well."

Father nodded, and walked toward the door. He paused, and half turned. "Vincent?"

Vincent looked up. "Yes, Father?"

"We will take care of her."

"Yes Father."

Vincent knew that Father had fallen for this girl just as he had fallen for baby Vincent long ago. He smiled and chuckled to himself. Father could be so sensitive sometimes.

Vincent looked down at the closed eyes, and felt his Bond connecting with her. He could feel that she was scared, and lonely. But he could also feel a longing in her. And he knew in his heart that she was longing for her past. Her father, her innocence, her memories. Slowly, she stirred, and he gently laid her down on the bed. She opened her eyes and whimpered again. He knelt and took her hand. He felt her shaking body tense.

"You scared us, child. I went looking for you," he said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you also."

She looked up at him, ready tears in her eyes again. "That was - just you?" she asked.

"Yes, just me." He brushed back a section of tangled hair and felt her forehead. Cold.

He stood and reached for a blanket on the nearby chair and turned back to find her sitting up, arms wrapped around herself. He instantly dropped the blanket onto the bed and reached for her shoulders. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to ease her back.

"No, Nancy," he was saying. "You may start bleeding again. You must stay still as possible."

"Vincent?" she asked, and he paused at the tender sadness in her voice. "Will you comb my hair?" He looked down at her, noting the sadness in her eyes. Vincent sighed, and took her hand.

Before he could answer, a kind voice at the door spoke. " I would be delighted to have that honor, if you don't mind."

Vincent smiled and Nancy turned sharply. Father stood in the doorway, holding her bag that Mary had retrieved from the shower chamber. In his other hand, he held her hair comb. Nancy gazed at him for a moment, then her face crumpled as tears started running down her face, and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing aloud.

"Okay," she whispered.

Father stepped down into the room, dropped the bag, and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. His eyes never left her face, noting the silent tears sliding down her cheeks. He gazed at Vincent for a moment, and there was an understanding there. Father had to win the same trust that the girl had for Vincent. Vincent stood, and drew the blanket around her.

"Father will take care of you, Nancy. I must go and help Mouse with the pipe repair in the north tunnels. But you are safe. Try to be good and do what you are told."

Another tiny smile crossed her face, and Nancy reached out one of her pale thin hands to him. "Thank you, Vincent."

Vincent took it and gazed down at her, then strode from the room, pulling his cloak closer around him.

Father nestled the girl back into the crook of his elbow, then proceeded to detangle the copper hair, in silence. But it was a gentle silence. When he finally got the tangles out and the fine hair was nearly dry, he looked down at her face and was pleased to see that her eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell in the slow gentle way that it does when one is asleep. He sat there for a while, the comb dangling from his hand. He had not felt this way for a long time. There was a deep sorrow in his heart that he had never experienced before, something he felt for this tattered soul that he had never known. He cared deeply for this child of the darkness. He ran his hand gently down her arm. She flinched in her sleep, and he removed his hand. She would have to learn to trust people again and learn to trust herself again. Life was not going to be easy for her. But he knew that if she pulled through, she could become an extraordinarily strong woman.

The next morning when she opened her eyes, Nancy saw Mary beside her. She was smiling. There was a gentleness that Nancy liked about Mary. She was a motherly person. And she was holding the lovely airy turquoise dress that Nancy had brought with her.

"Nancy, child, Vincent has asked that you be awakened and taken to the hospital chamber. Father wants another doctor to see you just to be sure that you are okay."

Nancy cringed and tears gathered in her eyes again. "It doesn't matter how many people see me. It won't change anything! I won't ever be okay again!" And she turned away from Mary and sobbed into the pillow. Mary sat down beside her and put one hand on the girls' shoulder.

"Now, there, child, we understand that. We just want to make sure that you are healing properly. We want you to heal and become a stronger person."

They made their slow way to the hospital chamber.

Father and Vincent appeared at the door, but neither Mary nor Nancy saw them. Mary continued speaking.

"Nancy, honey, we care about you. We don't want you to be alone in all of this."

Nancy turned back to face Mary, and her red rimmed strange eyes were drowning in sorrow. She spoke firmly, "I know all of that, Mary. But it does not change anything. I won't ever be the same. Mary?" She said suddenly, a strange panic sounding in her voice.

"What?" Mary asked alarmed. Nancy grabbed the older woman's arm with both hands. "Mary? What if I get pregnant?"

Mary silently brushed back some of Nancy's hair and smiled. "Then one of two things will happen. You will get something wonderful to take away the pain of these hours, or you can turn bitter and let yourself be reminded of the shame and pain every time you see the child."

Nancy nodded after a moment. "Mary, will you help me decide then?"

Mary squeezed her hands in her own and smiled again. "No problem, dearie. Oh look," she said in a higher voice. "Here's Doctor Peter to see you."

Nancy sat up quickly and turned to see Father and Vincent ushering in a tall older gentleman with a hard-boned clean-shaven face and large glasses which gave him a very lawyerish look. His mustache made him look like an elderly grandfather, but his smile was kind. Nancy shuddered. She was not looking forward to discussing everything that had happened to her. But Peter was so nice, that she immediately felt comfortable with him and he kept her entertained with hilarious stories from his years in the medical world. Before she knew it, she was telling him the whole stories, and his gentle hand held hers the whole time.

Walking the dark halls alone, Vincent considered the repercussions of everything that had happened in the last few weeks. So much had changed in such a brief time. Mouse was even more like his name, and only showed his face when called by Father, or Jamie, or Vincent. He had hidden away, as if in complete rejection of what had befallen his friend Scarlett. After having entered the world of the tunnels, it seemed as if most of the occupants had forgotten that her name was once Nancy, and they all called her Scarlett. It was as if she had never lived Above.

Turns out, Doctor Peter informed them she was not pregnant, much to the relief of the entire underground family, and especially Father, who later confided in Mary that he did not know if he could have handled the stress. As for Scarlett, she was going to have a rough road ahead of her. She knew it, and for the most part, she seemed to be content to not talk about it. Vincent felt that perhaps now was the time to visit Catherine. He needed her help.

He could sense that she was back in town. She had gone to visit family and he had lost all connection to her. But it was strong now and he knew she would probably come to the tunnels later in the evening. He smiled. He missed her so much.

Vincent heard a sound behind him and was startled from his reverie. He turned quickly, his keen eyes searching the darkness. It was Scarlett. She had not seen him, but walked aimlessly, running her hands along some of the stone foundations, pausing to examine stalactite crystals, pebbles on the floor, or catch a drop of water dripping from the rocks above her.

Vincent was so caught up in enjoying watching that slight carefree way starting to return that he didn't see Mouse climbing up the path toward Scarlett. When Mouse spoke, Vincent jumped and hid quickly.

"Hi, Scarlett," he said shyly, raising one hand as if in greeting. Vincent was surprised. It was the first time Mouse had appeared in days.

Scarlett curtsied playfully. "Hello, Mouse. Pleasure to meet you up here." Both young people laughed. Vincent smiled from his hiding place. Linking arms, Scarlett and Mouse sat down on a rock outcropping, and Vincent noticed that Scarlet was not nervous even though she was alone with Mouse. She trusted Mouse. Vincent would even go as far as to say she liked Mouse. This made Vincent smile but also feel a little concerned.

"Mouse - found something - to show you." The boy spoke in his typical stammer but looked away shyly.

Scarlett dropped the pebble she was tossing from one hand to the other and smiled. "Really? Mouse, you are quite the kindest person ever. "

Mouse grinned awkwardly and jumped up, holding out his hand. "Mouse show - miss Scarlett - right away?"

Scarlett took his hand gracefully and stood. "Why yes, why wait a moment?"

Vincent shook his head and watched them walk slowly away, chatting constantly. Lovebirds.

Mouse jumped from one rock to the other, stopping every bit to reach back a hand to Scarlett to help her. Scarlett did not know where they were going, but she was sure it must be something awesome because Mouse was almost beside himself with excitement. They met each other's eye and shyly looked away. Each one liked the other, but no one would admit it. Except Vincent could see right through it.

"Those two love each other," Vincent said, walking into Father's library. Father removed his glasses and looked up from the book he was reading of Dante classics.

"Who loves each other?" Father asked, eyebrows knit in confusion at the sudden statement.

"Vincent sat down at the chess table and smiled. "Scarlett and Mouse."

"Ahhh." Father leaned back in his chair and chewed the earpiece of his glasses thoughtfully.

Vincent caught the tone in his father's voice and looked up from the book of poetry he held in his own massive hands. "You say Ahhh like it's a problem Father. You do not approve?"

Father shook his head and stood, rubbing his chin with his free hand. "It is not that, Vincent. Nancy - Scarlett - is not one of us. Mouse is - slow. How could they possibly be in love? I mean he can't support a family can he? Mouse is practically still a child himself. And – Scarlett - is a child of the sorrows of Above. She can't fit in here. She was made to be in the sun. To live the hustle of the world Above. She has trouble staying content down here. Always wandering here and there, always searching for open spaces. She could never survive like someone raised here."

Vincent bowed his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps you are right Father. But I still think ..."

"What, Vincent? That it could be a possibility? Think, my son. It is not good wisdom." Father walked over and kindly rested a hand on the rough mane that partially hid Vincent's face from him. "I do not wish to hurt either one, Vincent, but I feel this is wisdom. Have you spoken to Catherine?"

Vincent shook his head and got up, clenching his hands to contain the frustration, anger, and pity welling up within him.

"You do not agree, my son?" Father observed quietly.

Vincent turned to look at him and Father noted the passion that filled his voice. "Outcasts, Father, all of us. Because people are different, they cannot be together? You did not say that Catherine and I could not be together because I was - different."

Father smiled gently. "If you will remember, Vincent, I was not for the idea at all in the beginning."

Vincent emitted a low growl and paced around the room. "But you did change your mind."

"Face it, my son. Someone will look for her. It will jeopardize our entire colony. She will never be able to go above because they will hunt her down and she will lead them here."

Vincent paused in his pacing and stared at his father. "Father I don't think she will want to go above after what happened to her there."

Father bowed his head. "Trust me, Vincent. She will not survive here. She isn't used to this life and the closed spaces will probably drive her mad. And even if she could live down here, how could Mouse possibly understand the responsibility of a husband? He's mentally not quite there, Vincent. He's much younger in his mind. And even now he is only 17."

Vincent growled again and sat down at the chess table flipped through the book of poetry he held and then tossed it onto a chair. He had lost his desire to read right now. Later he would bury himself in some old classic, but for now his heart hurt for the two young people down in the caves somewhere. This was not going to be an easy discussion. Finally, he looked over at Father and nodded once.

"I will speak to them when they return."

Father nodded and walked back toward the books. "Return?" Father hesitated for a second in consternation. "Return from where?"

"Return from wherever Mouse was taking her to see something. They were not headed to the upper caves or the deep caves. Perhaps he is going to show her the underground lake."

Father's face took on a dark shade of worry. "Vincent, do not forget there are those that roam some of those lower caverns that desire our hurt."

Vincent nodded. "I shall go see about Mouse and Scarlett." He did not look at his father as he exited the book room and headed out into the tunnels.

Vincent didn't think it was fair that Scarlett could not remain in the tunnels forever. But he also understood what his father said. It had happened before. People came to the tunnels and just couldn't adjust to the life there. Even Catherine didn't stay. She had her own life above and Vincent remained Below. Vincent kicked at a rock along the path in frustration. It wasn't going to be a pretty discussion.

In that moment, Vincent sensed Catherine was getting close by and hesitated.

"Catherine?" He whispered, sharp eyes gazing around quickly. Catherine appeared at the turn in the tunnel behind him and smiled.

"Hi, Vincent!"

They embraced and Vincent momentarily forgot his mission. She smelled of the World above. His keen nose caught scents of diesel fumes from her subway ride to work, air freshener from the office, Chinese fried rice from lunch, and other smells he couldn't place, but for one moment he was so drawn to it, he didn't speak.

"Well, someone has missed me." Catherine spoke playfully, looking up at him.

Vincent ran a rough hand over her hair and smiled. "It has been a while."

Catherine laughed. "I'm sorry Vincent." She laid her head back on his chest. "I have missed you so, but I had to go out of town, as you are aware, and I just got back a few hours ago."

Vincent looked down into her eyes and chuckled. "But you know how I hate it when you are away."

Catherine blushed and looked away. "So, what are you up to?"

Vincent's eyes darkened again with sadness and sighed. "Let's walk toward the underground lake and I will tell you. It's a hard story to tell, but even harder to hear."

Mouse led Scarlett deep into the heart of the back tunnels, places only Narcissa usually went. The oldest member of Below, Narcissa, though seemingly dilapidated and useless, was a talented magician and traditional healer. She was rarely seen unless something serious had happened. These dark tunnels were her home, but Mouse did not think she would be close by. They were still close to the upper tunnels. She usually stayed in the deep tunnels where the only light was by a candle held by the traveler.

They walked and walked, leaping from rock to rock. Mouse barely spoke from excitement and Scarlett was huffing trying to keep up. It was almost an hour before they reached Mouse's surprise. It was a crystal cave. The underground tunnel shone around them in crystalline shards. Phosphorescence flowed in the cave, making the quartz crystals glow beautifully.

Scarlett gasped and looked around her in awe. "Mouse! It's - the loveliest thing I have ever seen! " A phosphorescent lake shone at one end of the cavern, glowing on the faces of the two young people.

Mouse in his bashful awkward state rubbed his hands together. "Ok – good – ok - fine?" Scarlett's face lit up.

"Yes, Mouse! Ok good, ok fine!" She spoke in a mesmerized tone, completely taken in by the beauty. Scarlett walked forward slowly, running her hands over the clear crystals that shone like diamonds. The place was magical.

She reached the phosphorescent lake and sat down on a rock and tossed a pebble into the water watching the glowing ripples.

Bashfully, Mouse sat down next to her and they entwined their fingers together. The shimmering water cast flickering lights over the tunnel like a dancing sea of stars.

"Scarlett?"

She turned from gazing at the starry ceiling and smiled at the curly haired young man.

"Yes, Mouse?"

Mouse looked away. His whole life had been spent in the tunnels, learning to communicate, learning not to "take", and learning how to be a man. There was no way that Scarlett would want him.

He looked back at her shyly, and found she was looking straight at him, gently, kindly, the glow shining on her hair, her mismatched eyes glimmering.

"What is it, Mouse?"

Mouse looked away again then back to her. She looked so beautiful in the glow. In spite of all she had been through she was still Scarlett. In that moment he knew he loved her. In a swift move, he reached up one hand and pulled her into a kiss. She squealed and froze for a second, then relaxed, reaching her free hand to pull him closer.

She pulled back finally and hesitated, face a few inches from his and whispered, "Was that what you were going to ask me, Mouse?"

Mouse nodded bashful again, then let go of her hand and turned away. There was no way such a beautiful woman would want him, a former thief, stammering, simple idiot.

A gentle hand rested on his and Scarlett spoke softly. "You can ask me again if you like..."

Vincent and Catherine walked in silence. Vincent had just finished telling Catherine about Scarlett - or Nancy. She was appalled by the story and also familiar with the case. And it was as Father had feared. They were looking for her.

"Vincent, why can't she stay down here? She's safe here. Her mother is in jail. And if she doesn't have to deal with publicity, then it may be better for her."

Vincent shook his head. "Try telling Father that."

He suddenly jerked his head up and a growl came from his lips. He had felt fear from Scarlet. Intense fear. His inner empathetic compass pointed him in the right direction, and he bounded away. Catherine ran after him, trying to keep up as he twisted and turned through the tunnels.

A shadowy cloaked intruder stood in the mouth of the shining cavern, laughing evilly. Mouse held Scarlett in one arm, a splinter of crystal in the other.

"Do not - hurt – her or close - come." Mouse stammered.

The figure threw up its hands in mock disgust. "Is that all you've got, little rat? Cannot even say a threat properly. You scared? That's how proper rats should be – afraid of the cat."

Scarlett stepped forward in defense of Mouse. Anger made her face tight with reserved fury.

"Do not call him a rat." She growled at the shadowy figure through gritted teeth. "He is just as much a man as you are." She looked at Mouse and smiled. "In fact, he's much more of a man than you'll ever be, a coward who threatens others."

The tall shadow snarled and walked toward them and became a man's form, his hard eyes narrowed evilly, and his face half covered in a metal mask, much like something Scarlett had seen in a play once. It was grotesque and a shiver ran down her spine.

"I do not like being told what to call people, my dear." He spoke in a calm hard voice. "Especially when I am speaking to CHILDREN!" He growled the last part and Scarlett and Mouse backed away, their backs now against a wall. The tall man laughed wickedly, and Mouse placed himself in front of Scarlett, his normally kind, childlike face hard.

"Leave alone - now."

The evil man paused and gazed solemnly at Scarlet. "Well, what have we here?" He reached out a hard hand and grasped her chin. She tried to pull away, he grasped it tighter and turned her head forcibly to face him. "We have a freak of nature. Mismatched eyes." He ran his other hand across her hair and his eyes took on a dark shine. "How beautiful mistakes of nature can be."

Mouse reached up and yanked the man's arm away. "No - touch. Scarlett not - mistake." The man slapped Mouse across the face, sending him flying against the wall.

In that moment, a growl behind them made the tall man freeze and a deep voice said, "Paracelsus!"

The tall man whirled around without looking to see who spoke and darted away down a tunnel, long robe whirling around him. It was Vincent who had spoken.

Vincent relaxed slightly and walked forward.

Mouse had risen and stumbled toward Scarlett. "Scarlett - okay?"

She nodded and let out the breath she had been holding. "Yes, I'm fine." She touched the reddened side of his face. "Are you ok?"

Mouse nodded. "Mouse - ok good, ok fine."

He laid one hand on hers for a second then removed her hand. Scarlett blushed and looked away. Vincent laid a hand on Mouse's shoulder.

"That was very brave of you, Mouse. I didn't expect Paracelsus to be this far up in the tunnels. We must be careful."

Mouse rubbed his hands together nervously. "Mouse not careful - not good - to take care-of Scarlett - right?" He looked so downcast that Vincent felt bad for him.

Vincent smiled gently. "You did well, Mouse. But do you think you are ready for anything deeper than what you have right now? It was not impossible to deduce by the way you two look at each other."

He laid a gentle hand on Scarlett's shoulder too, and smiled at the timid, blushing faces..

Mouse looked at Vincent for a moment, and Vincent thought he was going to cry.

"Think Mouse - bad? Not good for husband? Not a man? Mouse crazy? Useless?" He was getting all worked up as he realized that he was "different". And that's how others were seeing him.

Vincent shook his head. "No, no, Mouse, listen. I just want you to understand what you are getting yourself into." He looked over at Scarlett. "What Scarlett is getting herself into." Both remained frozen gazing up at Vincent silently. "All I'm saying is take it slow and don't let your hearts get involved too quickly." He smiled. "Agreed?"

The two young people relaxed and smiled. "Agreed."

Vincent nodded. "Then off you go Mouse, I'm sure Pascal needs you. Scarlett, come and meet Catherine, my best friend."

Mouse nodded obediently, and scurried away. Vincent smiled after Mouse for a moment, and then turned back to Scarlett.

"Scarlett, this is my friend Catherine. She and I ..." his voice trailed off, and Catherine smiled at him. "We are very good friends."

Scarlett did not move for a moment. "She ... she is one of them?" A look of fear crossed her face. "She is from Above."

For a moment, Vincent hesitated. A wall of fear came crashing down over Scarlett's face, and she panicked. "I am not going back! Never! Vincent, how could you bring one of them down here?" She stumbled back and ran blindly away from them.

"Scarlett, come back!" Vincent and Catherine both ran after her, Vincent inwardly disturbed that she would think he would betray her, and in anguish partly from her fear he could feel inside himself, and also from his own that she wouldn't not trust him again. Catherine felt the sadness in him, and knew he was being overwhelmed with feelings from himself, Scarlett and from herself. She held his massive hand and followed, trying to be calm, and hoping it helped.

Scarlett ran and ran, praying she would not run into anyone on the way. She had to get out of this place. They would betray her, they would turn her in. She felt for a moment the terror of the night, the pain, the torture, and her vision blurred before her. She stumbled and fell to her knees. Sharp pain bit into her knees and hands from the rocks in the floor. She began to cry, partly from pain and partly from fear and partly from sadness. She was so confused she didn't know what to do.

"May I help you?" Came a kindly male voice. Struck with fear, Scarlett jumped up and stumbled back against the wall. For a moment, fear numbed the pain and she almost ran away again. But then she realized that the figure wore the clothing of the Tunnel Folk.

"I'm sorry, I can't see you well?" The voice spoke again. "Come closer child." Scarlett stepped forward and hesitated.

A kindly-faced man stood before her, carrying a lantern. "My name is Pascal. What is yours?"

Scarlett could barely stop her voice from shaking. "S-Scarlett."

"Ah, the girl from Above." He cast her a crooked smile that looked a lot like Mouse. "Well, it's nice to meet you. Can I ask why you are running like that? Are you okay? Are you in danger?"

"I-I-I'm scared." She stammered truthfully, hands clasped nervously together.

Pascal looked quickly behind her down the tunnel. "Why? Is there something chasing you?"

He stepped toward her protectively, swinging the lantern back. It revealed that he carried a length of pipe in his hand and Scarlet screamed again and ran around him, through another doorway and down a tunnel. He looked after her in bewilderment and then looked down at his pipe. A look of understanding crossed his face then concern. That had been a bad idea. He turned to the pipe running down the corridor and began to tap it with his pipe in Morse code fashion. He would let Vincent know.

Vincent felt the sway in fear then calm then utter terror again inside the young woman. He was rushing through the corridors trying to catch up to Scarlett but could not seem to get close. She was running like a wild animal and he hated being the pursuer.

He paused for a moment to listen to the pipes and caught the message from Pascal. "Met Scarlett. Scared her with tapping pipe. Headed toward north side." Vincent took a deep breath and hurried on.

Scarlett stumbled and fell, got up, ran, stumbled, and finally landed in a heap in a darker tunnel. She dared not go further. It was too dark. She had no idea where she was and was exhausted. Leaning her head back against the wall, she tried to calm down. She did not want to be a fearful person. But she could not face the World Above again. She certainly would not go simply because they forced her to.

Vincent could not get a feel for her location. She must have fallen asleep. He strode into his father's den and began to pace. A low rumbling growled in his throat. Tender-hearted Vincent realized how Catherine showing up must have looked to Scarlett. And he berated himself that he had not handled it differently.

Catherine watched him for a moment. "You can feel her pain."

Vincent paused. "Yes."

"Like you can for me?"

Vincent started to nod then paused. "It is different than what I feel for you. I feel all of your emotions and they affect me. When you are happy, I am happy. When you are afraid, I am afraid. When you are lost, I feel lost too. I only feel Scarlett's emotions. But I cannot interact with them. Perhaps it is because I saved her life. There is a connection there."

Catherine smiled and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "You have a special gift, Vincent." She looked up at him and smiled. "You empathize with broken people. It is a good thing. Remember that."

Vincent smiled back and ran a hand across her head. "Thank you, Catherine." He spoke softly in his gravelly voice. For a moment, the only words spoken were in their eyes, and the world stood still for a peaceful few seconds.

At that moment, Father walked out of the library. "Vincent, Catherine!" He smiled and extended a hand. "My dear, how are you? Vincent, did you talk to Mouse?"

Vincent shook his head. "Father, we have a bigger problem."

Scarlett awoke with a start. A raccoon had trilled nearby. That was a strange creature to find in tunnels underground. She slowly sat up as a furry being crawled up to her and screamed as loudly as she could. It was a raccoon. It was a real raccoon. The creature sat up and looked at her with bright eyes. How could it be here?

"Arthur?" A familiar voice called. A lantern light flickered nearby, glowing down the tunnel. "Arthur- come - now -come. Is – anyone - near? Who has - screamed?"

Scarlett scrambled to her feet. "Mouse! Oh, Mouse!"

"Scarlett?" Mouse appeared in the lights glow, a concerned look on his face. "Scarlett? Here? Near Dark tunnels." His face became concerned as he saw the scraped hands. "See Father. Not good, not fine, terrible. Scarlett injured."

Scarlett threw her arms around him. "It's nothing Mouse. I'm only glad you are here. A woman named Catherine is Below. Vincent brought her. Mouse they are looking for me. I can't go back I have to get out of here. I won't go back Above!"

Mouse smiled. "Catherine good. She - kind. Vincent - loves her. She - one of -us."

Vincent had felt her fear and darted away, leaving Catherine and Father behind. He ran and ran, determined to find her. Rounding a turn, he ran right into her and Mouse talking in the lower tunnel.

"Scarlett?" He took in the tired face, the scraped knees and hands. "Scarlett, I am so sorry. I should have told you about Catherine. She didn't know about you. I felt your pain, the sense of betrayal and I am sorry. I would never cause you pain knowingly."

Scarlett hesitated for a second, then threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry too Vincent, I should have trusted you, and I should have listened instead of running away like that."

Vincent held her close. "You had good reason not to take my word for it, my dear. You will learn to trust. It will come. As the demons in your dreams begin to die, you will trust more and more."

Catherine told Scarlett that people were looking for her. But she was not directly involved in the case and would keep Scarlett's secret. She had gone Above with the promise that Nancy Miller would be forgotten in the world of the city.

Vincent walked back toward the inhabited tunnels with Mouse and Scarlett, a walk that he and Mouse had made many times. The darkness of the tunnels was peaceful, and Vincent's inner compass took them safely to the light corridors of the community. The faraway tapping on the pipes was a music that relaxed them all and did not prepare them for what Father had to say. He was waiting for them.

"She must go back." Father paced the library with his hands clasped behind him. "You will not survive down here, my dear. You do not know the dangers here. If Paracelsus had gotten his hands on you... you would have wished you were dead." He stopped for a moment and gazed at the face so pale, the mismatched eyes sunken a bit since their appearance.

"You need the sun, child. It's not fair to keep you down here. Catherine says that your abusers are locked away. There is no danger now."

Scarlett stammered, "But Father, I'm perfectly happy here. I like it here."

Father held up a hand. "I know you do child. But ..."

"I'm not one of you?" She finished the sentence. For a moment he hesitated, then Father took a deep breath.

"Yes, my dear. I'm worried about you. Even Catherine could not adapt to a continual life here Below. But she is welcome to come and go. If you keep our secret, you too are free to come and go as Catherine is."

Scarlett shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I can't go back up there. I don't want to. I want to leave that behind me. I can't. I ..."

Father raised his hand again. "Nancy."

She froze, and her face held a trace of fear. He had used her Above name. Vincent felt a stab of fear go through him. She truly did not want to go Above.

Vincent stepped forward. "Father, what if she stayed with Catherine?"

Father slowly nodded his head. "I'm sure that can be arranged. Nancy. He turned back to her. "You do understand?"

Scarlett slowly backed away. "Yes. I do. I will go to my room now." She turned toward the women's chambers and paused looking back. There was no anger in her face. Only that blank look she used to wear when she first was brought to the tunnels. Then she walked away.

Mouse stepped forward. "Scarlett - happy. You make sad. She stay. Mouse - Mouse keep her - safe. Mouse - love Scarlett." His pleading eyes turned to Vincent. "Mouse very - careful. Bad people Up Top. They hurt - Scarlett. Pain – fear - make stay - please?"

Father placed his hands on Mouse's shoulders. "My dear boy. She is different from us. She carries a darkness about her. She's not ready to love."

Vincent stepped forward. "Father how can you say that?"

Father shook his head. "I know it is painful to grasp. But she is broken. She is hurting. She will love out of necessity. It may not be true love. She is a sponge soaking in caring and affection as if she will never see it again."

Mouse shook his head fiercely. "Scarlett not like - that. Scarlett - true. Scarlett love Mouse." He clasped his hands together. "Mouse love - Scarlett." He spoke the last part mournfully. "Mouse - not leave - Scarlett."

Father frowned. "Mouse you have to stay down here. Remember what will happen if they catch you up there."

Mouse's lower lip trembled for a second reduced to the scared trembling boy that Vincent rescued. He turned and ran away.

"Father, can't you see what you are doing?" Vincent spoke gruffly. "You are tearing those kids apart."

Father laid a hand on Vincent's shoulder. "That's just what they are, Vincent. Kids."

Scarlett didn't run to her room and sob her heart out. She dutifully packed up her things. But she refused to say goodbye to anyone except Mary.

Mary held her tight and whispered, "Come back real soon Scarlett." Scarlett hugged her tight and turned away. Vincent took her hand and they headed for the tunnel entrance. Father stood by the door.

Farewell, my dear. Be well and prosper."

She shook his hand and said a quiet thank you. She looked around for Mouse, but he was not there. A sorrowful pang stabbed her heart. She knew she may not see him again.

They met Catherine by the road. She jumped out of her car and met them. A hug from Vincent was first.

Vincent held her close and whispered, "Take care of her and watch her. She is not glad to be back. Father thought it best."

Catherine looked confused. "Why?"

"For her safety. She is not well yet and Paracelsus has his eye on her. I also think he is concerned about her and Mouse."

Catherine frowned. "I understand Paracelsus but why is he worried about Mouse?"

Vincent shook his head. "He is worried that they could become a couple and he isn't sure how to handle that. Father will come around. You know how he is. He always panics at any new thing. Remember how he felt about you and me." He smiled. "I do think he wants what is best. Take care of her Catherine. Bring her to see us."

Catherine smiled. "I will."

Vincent turned to Scarlett and she threw her arms around him. "I am sorry Scarlett. I know you feel betrayed. I can assure you that is not Father's intention. He wants the best for you. Please come see us."

Scarlett nodded but didn't trust herself to speak. It was going to be a rough night.

"Vincent will you stop pacing?" Father laid down the book he was reading and removed his glasses.

Vincent turned and spoke. "You expect me to Father, when we have just turned a broken one away? We have just undermined all that this community stands for. A place for the castaways of earth to find equality and hope. A new life."

"Vincent ..."

"Father I am not finished. Scarlett came here crushed by the world. In the world's eyes she was less than nothing. Better off dead. I saved her. You put her back together. Mary helped her come alive again. And Mouse - Mouse gave her a reason to live again."

Father sighed. "Vincent. She is also a threat to the community. Paracelsus wants her, the people Above want her. They gave ways of finding people Vincent. They would find her here and the whole community would be lost."

Vincent growled and began to pace again. "It's not fair."

Father sighed again. "A lot of things aren't fair, my boy."

Quietly, she closed the screen door behind her and tiptoed through the gate. Quickly, she wove her way through alleys until she came to a dark junkyard. She hid behind an oil drum and whistled. A returning whistle came to her ears. It was Mouse. This was their secret hiding place when they were friends Above, before Mouse had been captured and Scarlett had been injured in the explosion.

"Mouse!" They ran to meet each other, staying in the shadows.

"Scarlett!" Mouse grinned lopsided and brushed away his hair from his forehead. "Scarlett, Mouse - missed - terrible. Mouse come see you. Ok good - ok fine?"

Scarlett threw her arms around him. "Yes Mouse. Ok good. Ok fine. But you must be safe. I wouldn't want to get you caught again."

Mouse raised his head nobly. "Mouse - Mouse do anything - anything be with - Scarlett."

Scarlett smiled. "Well, I feel the same Mouse. I - I do love you Mouse. We have always had something special."

Mouse smiled. "Mouse question. Mouse need know. Will Scarlett- be steady - girl?"

Scarlett stared at his hesitant face and then laughed.

"Mouse, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

Mouse nodded shyly.

Scarlett smiled. "Yes Mouse. I would be honored for you to accept me as your steady girlfriend."

Mouse clasped his hands together and smiled lightly. "Ok - good! Ok - fine!"

He took Scarlett's hand. "Please visit – come – Below - see Mouse? Don't - be gone."

His pleading eyes made Scarlett smile.

"Yes, Mouse. I will come see you. But only you. And Vincent. Father seems not to like me."

Mouse shook his head vigorously. "No no not - not doesn't like. Father - cautious. He – kind - mean well - Catherine - Vincent father not - happy. But he - became fine." He ran a hand through his floppy hair. "Time - maybe time - make better."

Scarlett sighed and sat down on the ground beside a crushed car frame and looked up at the dark and cloudy sky above them.

"Mouse, I don't understand. I was almost killed in this world. I saw pain here. I felt pain here. I don't want to be here. This world is cruel. Your world - they love. They get along. They care for one another. I - I don't know how I can face tomorrow. People are going to ask questions. I don't want to have to answer them."

Mouse gazed down at her with mournful eyes. "Mouse - sorry. Mouse want - take far away - live happy - keep Scarlett - safe."

She smiled up at the young man and smiled. "Don't fret Mouse. I'm just complaining. I will try. For Father's sake. He wants me to try. I owe him that much."

A tapping of raindrops began to fall around them. In their intense discussion they had not noticed the storm. Mouse stood. "Mouse see - home. Not safe - by herself."

Scarlett shook her head. "No, you are close to home, and I am just a few blocks away."

Mouse opened his mouth to protest but Scarlett laid a finger on his lips and shushed him. "No arguing. Not taking a chance on you getting caught up here."

Mouse reached up and clasped the hand in his and kissed the fingers. "Mouse go. Scarlett go - see tomorrow?" He had taken on a more serious expression. "Scarlett be - safe?"

Scarlett smiled. "Yes. I will be here. And I'm only a few blocks up the road. I will be okay."

Mouse hunched his shoulders against the driving rain and backed away. "Okay good. Okay fine."

She watched him enter the tunnel, leaving light footprints that were rapidly washed away. Turning away, she jogged back toward Catherine's house. Lightning flashed around her. The rain flowed in cold sheets across the road. Scarlett was soaked to the bone by the time she got back into Catherine's apartment. It was still dark and quiet. Scarlett was not looking forward to the next day.

Catherine walked next to Vincent, the tapping of the pipes ringing around them.

Vincent spoke calmly. "You say she refuses to go outside?"

Catherine nodded. "Yes. She won't go outside during the daytime and she keeps having nightmares at night. Not screaming ones, but just like crying and tossing. She's afraid of going back into the world."

Vincent put an arm around Catherine and shook his head.

"She must overcome the fear, Catherine. Or she will be a slave of it forever, whether she be Above or Below. Below she didn't have to think about it. But that fear was buried. Now she has to face it. And she is terrified."

Catherine leaned into his hug and replied. "I know how she feels. I was scared too after I was attacked. And you told me not to be afraid."

Vincent stopped walking and laid both hands on Catherine's shoulders. "She is much like you, Catherine."

Catherine smiled. "Well, thank you Vincent. What does Father think?"

Vincent began to walk again, an agitated tone coming through in his voice. "Father thinks she should face her fears Above. He is also afraid of her getting too deeply involved down here and not being able to give up the life Above. One cannot have both." He said softly.

Catherine looked at him. "We do," she responded.

Vincent smiled gently. "What we have can not be duplicated, Catherine. What we bear is a complicated life based on our experiences and many struggles along the way. Mouse may not be able to handle as much as we have. Only time will tell. But if they can't handle it, then both will be broken. And that is what Father is concerned about."

Catherine nodded. "I know." She stopped walking and grabbed his arm. "Vincent, could you talk to Scarlett? Explain this to her? It helped me. And she looks up to you."

Vincent smiled. "Yes, I will."

The dark lights of the city shone on the sides of the windows, reflecting the sparkling lights of the stars and skyscrapers as one glow. Scarlett sat in the floor of Catherine's living room, reading. Catherine had gone to see Vincent and she had stayed home. She didn't want to go see them yet. She was deeply captivated in the tale of a beautiful girl falling in love with a fearsome prince when a click caught her attention. Someone was opening the balcony door. Shadows slipped inside, closing it behind them. Fear shot through her numbing her body and she hesitated. The shadows became humans, and the humans became men. One swung a club casually in his hand.

"Well, what have we here? A pretty little lady all alone. My, my, what a sad thing. Maybe she needs some company? Maybe we should teach her a lesson for putting our pal in the electric chair? Maybe we need to explain to her why that wasn't a good idea?"

Scarlett jumped to her feet and backed up. "Stay back, do not come any closer." She clenched her fists. "Stay back." She looked around quickly for a weapon but there was nothing handy.

One of the men laughed and stepped toward her. "She's a little feisty, too."

Scarlett took another step back and an arm went around her waist lifting her off the floor.

"And so pretty. Such a pity! One must never put someone's friend in jail, and especially not the electric chair," a gruff voice spoke. He growled into her ear. "It makes some people angry."

With that she was flung across the bed and the club came down across her shoulders. She fought but three men were no match for her. One arm around her neck kept her subdued and half-choked. The faces of evil leered down at her and she prayed for unconsciousness to take her away from reality. She realized in the hazy snippets of conversation that she could catch that they thought she was Catherine.

Vincent paced the library. "I think it best Father for her to come Below. The world is cruel. The world is full of people that do not understand. She is afraid and wounded by them. I understand that. I believe she deserves a chance."

Father ran a hand through his hair. "You are right my boy. I may have been hasty. You know how it makes me nervous when people come down here. I cannot risk what we have created here." He looked at Vincent then at Catherine. "Okay, you may bring her back and she may remain Below."

Catherine walked up to Father and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Father." He smiled fondly at her. "Anything for you Catherine."

Vincent's head jerked to attention, and he touched Catherine's face. "Catherine. Stay here."

And he was gone into the darkness, running like the wind. He had felt the cry for help from Scarlett and adrenaline drove him to answer. He had no time to explain. He just knew he had to get to her. And fast.

Vincent ran. He leaped. He crawled. Trying to get to Catherine's apartment. He swung up on the balcony, clinging to the railings with all of his strength. The metal was wet from the rain and the deck chairs were tossed around as if there had been a struggle. The double doors stood open, curtains blowing in the wind, damp from being exposed to the storm outside. Hesitating, Vincent searched his heart for Scarlett's feelings but could sense none. She had shut him out. She sat in the floor, leaning against the wall, head bowed, not sobbing. Whimpering. Frozen. As if any move she made would confirm that this was not a dream. Her shirt was ripped, and Vincent could see bruises beginning to darken on her shoulders. He crept forward quietly, slowly.

"Scarlett."

She did not move, but her body stiffened. She knew he was there.

"Scarlett." He spoke again, gently, firmly.

Slowly, she raised her head to look at him. Bruises were beginning to form on her face too. Stepping over the overturned tables and smashed lamp, Vincent knelt in front of her and cradled her face in his hands.

"Dear child, they have done it again."

Scarlett's face crumpled. "They - thought - thought I was C-Catherine." She said in a halting gasp. "Vincent please - m-make it stop hurting. I – tried - Vincent. Father - wanted me - to try. But they – hurt - me and I didn't want - to come - back here."

She broke down sobbing, heartbroken, face distorted by tears and crying bitterly. She looked so forlorn that Vincent's heart ached.

Vincent carefully gathered her up and held her close, holding her tightly. "My child, I am so sorry. We were wrong. You have had enough to fear when you came Below. Now you have even more to fear Above. Scarlett, I must tell you. I was coming to get you. Father wants you Below. I know he will even more so now."

Scarlett looked up at him. She didn't speak. Her lips trembled, unsure of what she was hearing.

Vincent smiled. The look of confusion on her face made his own mind question the sanity of this. How was she going to face coming back Below, when such a scene had been made telling her to leave? She would probably be inclined to feel bitter toward them and rightly so. All Vincent was sure of was that Father was going to be angry when he discovered what had happened to this girl from Above.

Father was at the entrance of the tunnels waiting for Vincent. Vincent was slightly surprised, as Father rarely came to the surface. When he saw them coming, his face became concerned and for the first time in a long time, he left the tunnel and ran toward them. The expression on his face went to Vincent's heart.

He hurried to meet them, arms held out. Taking Scarlett from Vincent's arms, Father held her close and she clung to him, burying her face in his cloak. Vincent took Catherine's hand and followed Father, who headed straight for the old dungeon room where it all started.

"You promised, Father," she whimpered. "You promised it would be okay."

Father held her face between his hands and shook his head in dismay. "My child, what have they done? I am so sorry my child. I thought it best. I thought it best!"

Scarlett gazed up at him through swollen eyes and shook her head. "Please Father, don't send me back! Please let me stay!" By now she was sobbing raggedly, every breath hurt.

Father carefully pulled her close and held her tight. "No child. Never. You are staying here."

They stayed that way for a few moments while Mary gathered hot water, bandages, etc. Vincent watched from the corner, feeling the sadness inside Scarlett turn to peaceful silence.

Catherine knew the men that Scarlett described to her, and said she would make sure they were arrested. She also said she would make sure that Scarlett's file was closed as "dead leads". No one would be coming to find her. She would have to remain Below to keep her secret, but no one was sorry about that arrangement.

"You do realize what you are giving up, don't you Scarlett?" Vincent asked softly, handing Father bandages.

Scarlett nodded. "Pain, fear, and getting beat up all the time." She replied dryly, wincing as she shifted sideways so Father could sit beside her, knowing that new scars were building on old ones. She was done with the world Above.

Father gazed at her sadly.

"I am so so sorry, child," he repeated softly. "I thought it best." It seemed as if he was holding the attack as a personal responsibility.

Scarlett winced as he touched her shoulder and shrugged. She brushed a quick tear from her still rapidly swelling face and replied, "I'm really not - so sure you were wrong Father. It's all the other weird - people in the world that I have to watch out for. I am sure they are not all that way. But I seem to have a target on my back. You should - have just left me up there, Vincent. It would have been so much less stressful for - you all."

Father turned her face toward him and cringed when she squeaked in pain. "Look at me, child. You are here now, and you are one of us. Let us not speak of such things as leaving people in danger and injured. You are not strange. You are quite normal. It is the World who is strange." He added the last part under his breath. "I am a foolish old man. You belonged here from the start."

Scarlett looked sideways at him. "Foolish maybe - but not old."

Father smiled and replied, "Who are you calling foolish?" They both laughed and Mary shook her head.

"Look, you two, let's get this child fixed up and resting. Fine lot you both are laughing like morons."

Father and Scarlett laughed quietly and put on serious faces. "Okay, Mary," Father said quickly. He turned away and smiled. Scarlett knew he was not going to send her away again.

Vincent slipped away from the group and beckoned to Catherine to follow.

"Yes, Vincent?" she whispered, following him down the path, concern written on her face.

Vincent hesitated and looked down the path where they had come to be sure no one was listening.

"Catherine, when the men see you, they will realize they beat up the wrong person. If they describe who they attacked, they will know it wasn't you. They will know it was Scarlett."

Catherine frowned. "Vincent what are we going to do? She cannot go back up there. But if she doesn't and there is no one to testify to the beating, then there is no way of holding them. There is no crime."

Vincent laid his hands on her shoulders. "They will come to find you once they realize they have made a mistake."

Scarlett paced back and forth in the quiet dungeon room. Mary sat in her rocking chair nearby, knitting. There was no sound except for the clicking of the needles and the footsteps Scarlett made. Mary watched her, saying nothing, for the moment. Scarlett finally stopped pacing and spoke, making Mary jump at the sudden sound.

"I have to go back, Mary."

Mary frowned and laid down her knitting. "Back to where, child?"

Scarlett walked toward her and knelt at her side. "I have to go back Above. The men will come back. I know they will! And Catherine can't have them arrested because the judges will say she's not injured. There's no crime without a victim. They'll come back! They'll hurt Catherine and it will be all my fault! I owe it to Vincent to protect the one he loves. He saved me, let me save Catherine."

She sounded so desperate that Mary laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Calm yourself, child. Vincent and Catherine will work it out. It will do no one any good for you to be a martyr."

Scarlett shook her head. "No. I'm not waiting for anyone to get hurt. I know pain and I would die if something happened to Catherine!"

Without further argument, Scarlett began to climb out of the dungeon room, and Mary followed, brow lined in worry.

"Child, it's going to be too dangerous," Mary pleaded as she climbed after her. "Let's please consider this."

Scarlett paused and looked back down at the elderly lady and shook her head. "I have to Mary. It's not fair."

In the shadows, a figure watched. Dark eyes narrowed in a cunning stare. Evil hands rubbed together and then the figure was gone without being noticed.

Some time later, Catherine and Scarlett ran down the embankment and looking around carefully, they entered the tunnel. The familiar, comforting tapping of the pipes became louder and louder as they traveled deeper into the tunnels. Once well inside, Pascal met them and led them to the main library where Vincent and Father eagerly awaited them.

Vincent took Catherine in his arms for a quick embrace and spoke gently, "Catherine! You are safe. How did the trial go?"

His gaze was on Scarlett who stood by the chess table, not looking at anyone.

Catherine looked sad for a moment. "It was rough. They made Nancy tell them everything that happened. And took a statement to complete the case against her mother."

Father walked over and put an arm around the girl protectively. "Are they going to make her stay up there? Therapy or something?"

Catherine smiled mischievously. "I told the courts that I knew a therapist and I would send her there and keep them updated."

Father frowned. "Are you sure that's a good-"

Catherine held up a hand. "It's an excuse for her to come here."

Fathers was confused for a moment then his face relaxed and he smiled. "Then you are here to stay, my child. Your therapist recommends a lengthy vacation."

Scarlett smiled slightly and looked down at the ground. Father looked at Catherine with one eyebrow raised. She shook her head.

Father patted Scarlett on the shoulder. "Why don't you go say hi to Mouse, my dear. He has been waiting for you in the candle room. He said he had something to show you. I would appreciate it if you made sure that Arthur has not destroyed all of the candles we have stored for Winterfest." His smile was kind, but it did not reach his worried eyes.

Scarlett nodded. "Yes, Father. I will. Thank you." She kept her head down and exited the room quietly, headed down toward the candle room.

Vincent turned to Catherine after Scarlett had gone. "Okay, what's happened? I felt great fear and sadness in your heart the entire time you and Scarlett were gone."

Catherine looked after the girl sadly and laid her head on Vincent's chest. "It was awful, Vincent, Father. It was a total mayhem after they realized she was also connected to the case of her dad's death. It was awful seeing her so vulnerable testifying. She looked so scared. She had to face her mom in court and testify against her and - it was horrible. Her mom kept calling her a freak. She got away from the guards and attacked Nancy, screaming at her to crawl away and die. Nancy didn't talk about it afterwards, but I could tell it hurt her. She's been so quiet."

Vincent shook his head sadly, and the sorrow showed in his voice when he spoke. "Well, now perhaps she can finally heal. She will never have to go Above again if she doesn't want to."

Scarlett stepped into the candle room cautiously, gazing around in wonder at the many candles handing on the walls. Some were plain and some colored. Wax steamed in a couple vats and balls of wicking were stacked around in shelves.

"Scarlett?"

A timid voice spoke, and she turned to see Mouse sitting in the corner. He held Arthur in his arms. When they saw each other, Mouse jumped up and smiled. That smile faded at the blank expression on Scarlett's face.

Mouse held out a hand. "Scarlett back - Mouse happy."

Scarlett turned away and leaned on the wall. All she could hear was her mother's voice. She was a freak. She should die.

She began to run. As far away as she could get. She was not worthy of Mouse's love. She should die. She could not stay.

Mouse ran after her. "Scarlett, wait!"

He reached out and grabbed her arm. "Scarlett!"

She started shrieking to let her go, and trying to jerk her arm free, scrambling, trying to get away. Mouse held on, yelling, "Scarlett, wait. Mouse - Mouse love Scarlett!"

She stopped struggling and fell to her knees sobbing, face buried in her hands. "Mouse, why?"

Mouse fell to his knees beside her and pulled her close, holding her head against his chest.

"Ok - good - ok - fine. Mouse take-care Scarlett. Keep safe - bad people - gone. Mouse love - and protect."

"Well, well! What have we here?" a thin evil voice spoke. Mouse and Scarlett looked up in fear at the familiar voice. Paracelsus stood before them. His face bore the grin of a coyote about to spring on a helpless rabbit, and he looked as if he was enjoying every moment of it. "I have found my lovely freak of nature again."

"Father, I think we are going to be okay. She has left behind her demons and now she will have time to recover." Vincent spoke confidently.

Father sighed. "You were right my boy. I wasn't sure how it was going to work out. We still have one problem though."

Catherine frowned. "And what would that be, Father?"

Father leaned forward and touched his hands together. "Mouse."

Vincent shook his head in disagreement. "That's not a problem, Father. Mouse is a young man and if he and Scarlett love each other, then there's no reason that they ..."

Vincent paused. There was fear building in his heart. He glanced at Catherine, who looked concerned about Father's statement, but she was obviously not frightened. There was only one other option. Scarlett was in trouble. Real trouble.

Without a word, he leaped from his chair and began running in the direction that the fear had come. When he finally reached the lower tunnels, he ran straight to the candle room. Not there. He ran toward the passage to the lowest tunnels, and - rounding a corner - he found Arthur, Scarlett's coat and Mouse lying unconscious in a heap on the floor. His heart sank. Paracelsus was back.

Quickly, he knelt beside the still boy, and cradled the shaggy head in his hands. A large lump was forming on the side of his head. It had been a large enough blow to knock him out, but not enough to damage anything. Vincent shook his head. Mouse was going to be very angry when he woke up.

She slowly opened her eyes, then shut them quickly. A pounding in her head took all the concentration she had not to completely deafen her ears. It felt as if her head was completely wrapped in cloth, and she could see no light. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was... No, wait. She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember. She sat up and was quickly yanked back down. Then she realized there was a rope around her neck. It only gave her room to half sit up. Panicking, she tried to pull away, but the burn of the rope stopped her. Gasping for air, she desperately tried to remember where she was. How had she gotten in this position? Who am I? she said to herself. Desperation began to creep into her mind as she realized it was blank. She had no idea who she was or where she was.

Out of the darkness, a gentle voice spoke. "Careful, child. I did not want you running away until you were well. You will hurt yourself thrashing about like that." Gentle but firm hands touched her hands, and she shrank away in fear.

"Why can't I see you?" she whimpered.

A soft chuckle was heard, and the hands began to unwrap the cloth from her head. It fell away, and she tried to open her eyes. They hurt terribly, and she could barely see ahead of her enough to see a figure kneeling before her. It was a man, but she couldn't make out his face. It had no features, and she blamed it on her eyes that for some reason refused to focus.

"Who are you and who am I?" she asked, once again trying to sit up. The sharp pain of the rope burn halted this motion again.

"My name is Paracelsus, dear child. And you are Emily, you're an orphan. I found you in an alley Above. You're not well, and I think you have amnesia. Someone... has hurt you terribly." His face twisted evilly, but she couldn't see it in the dim light

It didn't click in her mind that being tied up wasn't making the story seem credible. Or that not knowing who or where you were was not a good thing either.

He carefully took the rope from her neck and touched the red burn. She shrank away, and he took her hand.

"Come, my child. I promise I will not hurt you. Let me put some medicine on that burn. You are safe with me."

Confusion scrambled her mind. Who was she? Why did she feel so fearful?

Vincent paced the floor of the library, like a caged lion. Mouse sat dismally in the corner, petting Arthur, who sat in equal silence as if he knew the dire situation. Catherine watched them quietly, concern on her face. Father was talking to Winslow and Pascal.

This was the view from the tunnels. They had no way of knowing that deep below them, their Scarlett did not remember them.

Days following, "Emily" did not know what was going on around her. There was a nice man that was good to her, and a mean man that kept her caged and hurt her. The nice man would come and talk to her. He brought her food and tried to help and encourage her. He kept promising that he would get her out. Something quiet within her told her not to trust the nice man. But in her heart, she knew she could. There was just something she just could not put her finger on. Like if she trusted the nice man, something bad was going to happen. But the mean man was so cruel, that she longed for the nice man to come back just so the mean man would go away.

Vincent meanwhile was searching. Trying to connect with her. Sometimes he knew he felt her. But she wouldn't connect. It was as if she didn't know him. And he would lose the connection completely. It had been several weeks since he had sensed her last. Day and night, he searched for her deep in the tunnels. Mouse was desolate. He tried to help search, but Father made him stay in the upper tunnels after a particularly emotional breakdown, where he grieved so intensely that Father feared Mouse would lose his sanity. Father vowed to himself that when Scarlet was found they should be together, if that was what they wished. He was burdened that Mouse, like a son to him, was so hurt. And there was nothing he could do. He paced and wrung his hands. And wished evil upon his brother, Paracelsus.

A clash of metal awoke "Emily" from her uncomfortable sleep. The nice man was undoing the cage. He always kept a cloak over his form and his face. She had never seen it. But trustingly, she went with him. He took her hand and she realized he was very dark. His skin was the color of coffee. It reminded her of someone. But again, she couldn't put her finger on it. A yell behind them made the man freeze, then he turned to her.

"Come child. I'm going to carry you."

He whisked her off her feet and began to run. They were going up in the tunnels. A glimmer of a memory in the back of her mind told her this was a good thing. The yelling behind them grew louder and louder. The nice man had sure footing as he leaped over rocks and yawning cracks in the path. "Emily" hung on with what strength she had, praying this was the right decision.

Suddenly, the mean man was right behind them. She looked over the nice man's shoulder and glimpsed his face. The sudden glimpse of the evil face in the light of the lantern crashed into her memories and she gasped.

Fear filled her heart and she spoke, "Paracelsus!" And fainted.

Winslow, though startled, ran as fast as he could. The evil man was gaining. Winslow hoisted his burden over his shoulder, gritted his teeth and kept running. He was going to reach safety if it was the very last thing he did. He owed it to his family. He owed it to Mouse. Suddenly, a tall form appeared before him in the pathway, filling the entire space with massive, angry growls.

"Stop," it roared.

He stopped running in confusion, and so did Paracelsus. Without another word being spoken, the evil man turned tail and ran like a scolded puppy. Winslow shook his head in disbelief.

"Man, Vincent you gave me such a scare!" He laughed tiredly. "But I'm sure glad you showed up when you did. These old legs ain't what they used to be."

Vincent laid a gentle hand over the big man's shoulder and spoke kindly. "I am glad too, Winslow. I see you have rescued our Scarlett."

A grim look came over Winslow's face and Vincent hesitated.

"What is it, Winslow?"

Winslow shook his head. "Man, he was cruel to her. If I had not kept encouraging her, she would have died a long time ago. I would have alerted someone on the pipes, but I was afraid to leave her and afraid Paracelsus would hear it. Kept trying to find a way to get her out. She's got amnesia or something. He told her that she was an orphan and named Emily and everyone hated her and was simply inhumane. Kept her caged. I took the first chance I could to get her out."

Vincent patted the man's shoulder. "I know you did, Winslow, and I admire your bravery. Paracelsus is a cruel man. He might have killed you."

Winslow shook his head. "Man, Vincent I don't know if I'm going to ever forget what I've seen."

Vincent shook him a little. "Here, let's go up. Father will be worried, and you look like you need a good meal and some sleep. Time cures everything."

Winslow looked up at the lion man's gentle smile and nodded.

He held out his arms and Vincent took Scarlett from Winslow. Shocked at how light she was, he began to follow Winslow back toward the lights of the Upper Tunnels.

At that moment, Scarlett woke. She felt as if she was awaking from a terrible nightmare. A nightmare that felt so real. She looked up as she realized she was being carried. Her vision was still blurry, but she recognized the features, and a spark of hope was in her voice.

"Vincent?"

The days that followed the rescue from the Lower Tunnels found Scarlett increasingly reclusive. Once back in the Upper tunnels, she did not leave from the upper tunnels, and at Father's request, she was never without a companion. Winslow had taken her as a permanent daughter and made sure she was safe. Mouse could not be found, or Father would have insisted that he watch her. She did not talk of her time in the lower tunnels, preferring to treat it as a dream that had never happened. But Father had been filled in by Winslow, who somehow managed to make the time down there seem as horrible as death itself. But he knew his evil brother's limits. He had none. And Father was ready to kill him if he ever saw him. But he had to deal with Vincent's anger too, and that kept him from carrying out this feeling single-handed.

Vincent and Pascal closed off as many of the lower tunnels as they could, except those that were frequented by Narcissa. She could find her own way. Vincent hoped that after the encounter in the lower tunnels, Paracelsus would remain down there at least for a while. He did not think he nor Scarlett could take much more stress.

Father could not get the overwhelming relief and anger to leave him as he played over and over the moment that Vincent brought Scarlett back to him. Mary and Vincent made her comfortable while he tended to her eyes. They had never been right since she got hit on the head by Paracelsus. He had kept her in such darkness that the light seemed almost unbearable to her. She wouldn't talk to anyone but held his hand so tightly that he had to tend to her with only one free hand. He felt as if all he did was put her back together after the evil people tore her apart, and he found himself wondering what he was doing wrong and if fate was just determined to play cruel jokes on him.

One night, Scarlett slipped out of her room, past the lit candles and Winslow sitting snoring nearby in his chair. She quickly scribbled a note and left it by the door.

The note read, "Going to find Mouse, will be careful". She slipped out of the darkness and made her way Above.

Vincent awoke from his sleep with a start. He had sensed her feelings again. Curiously, he considered the bravery he felt inside her heart. She had allowed him in. Amid the repressed feelings about her experiences, he felt the determination in her heart and with a sinking feeling, he knew where she had gone.

It was raining Above.

The alleys held an almost blue haze as the rain misted down, shining in the streetlights. Scarlett pulled her coat tighter around herself and followed the brick path down to the one place that she knew Mouse loved. The upper bay roared angrily as the rain stirred up its black depths into foam. Down by the docks, was an old scrap yard that ran a quarter of a mile up the coast. Old ship parts lay scattered and some massive hulls stood as mournful sentinels of the past. She made her way around large pieces of metal and wire, trying not to get scratched. There was a special place she was going and way back under a tanker hull, she finally found it.

It had been a hiding place for her and Mouse and the gang back when they ran the streets. And hoping upon hope, she stepped inside. And there was Mouse. He sat at a table, his back to the door, hunched over, in his characteristic pose of working on something. Scarlett felt a spark inside when she saw him. A small candle in the middle of the table flickered over the walls, and made his shadow seem to swallow the vast space. Tools lay neatly in piles, and a well-tumbled bed in the corner showed where Mouse had spent many a restless night. Then a pang of sadness. He looked so thin and wild. She felt terrible that the last time they saw each other, she had run from him.

"So the cat has finally found the mouse." She spoke softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Mouse turned quickly in his seat, fear written on his pale face, then froze as he recognized her. Instantly, he was up on his feet, his chair falling over in his haste. He grabbed her shoulders in his hands

"Miss - Scarlett - You - you're - not - not - " And, uncharacteristically for him, he began to cry.

"She should never have gone out," Father paced the floor, hands clasped behind his back. In the candlelight, his face was grey and worried. Vincent paced too, but his voice was calm.

"Father, she feels a need, a longing for Mouse. He is her completion. And she is to him too. Do not worry. If anything goes wrong I will feel it."

Father looked at him quickly. "She let you in?"

Vincent smiled gently. "Yes. I feel the longing, the sorrow. She needs Mouse. And he needs her. They are like two sparrows. Caged, but happy when they are together."

Father shook his head. "It's just that we keep having to rescue her. Eventually, this is going to compromise the community. Having Mouse going up Above on escapades is one thing. Both is quite another."

Vincent shook his head again. "Father, I fear we have no control over them. Mouse would never make it in the world above. And neither would Scarlett. Yet something in them yearns for the unknown. They haven't gotten used to the idea of being Below, I fear. Mouse is his own person. So is Scarlett. But they are young. They will figure it out."

Mouse pulled Scarlett close to him in an uncharacteristic emotional hug and she felt him trembling. "Mouse I am so sorry you thought I was ..."

He put a finger to her lips. "Mouse - want - know hurt?"

Scarlett sighed and nodded. "But Father says I will be okay." She spoke more bravely than she felt. Mouse cocked his head to one side and studied her.

"You - sure?"

She bit her lip and studied his face. So calm, tearstained, but calm. Would he still care about her if he knew the truth?

Mouse reached to take her face in his hands and spoke gently. "Mouse - always-love- Scarlett."

Those words made her finally break down. And they cried together. Him for the love of his life and her for the broken girl inside of her.

END

Special thanks to Angie from The Treasure Chambers that edited and proofread this for me. I am forever grateful!


End file.
